After All, What Was The Whole Wide

I'm Not An Easy Man. I Can Be An Entertaining One, Though It's Been My Experience That Most People Don't Want To Be Entertained. They Want To Be Comforted.

Were It Not For Occam's Razor, Which Always Demands Simplicity, I'd Be Tempted To Believe That Human Beings Are More Influenced By Distant Causes Than Immediate Ones. This Would Especially Be True Of Overeducated People, Who Are Capable Of Thinking Past The Immediate, Of Becoming Obsessed By The Remote. It's The Old Stuff, The Conflicts We've Never Come To Terms With, That Sneaks Up On Us, Half Forgotten, Insisting Upon Action.

Since Her Retirement From Teaching Miss Beryl's Health Had In Many Respects Greatly Improved, Despite Her Advancing Years. An Eighth-grade Classroom Was An Excellent Place To Snag Whatever Was In The Air In The Way Of Illness. Also Depression, Which, Miss Beryl Believed, In Conjunction With Guilt, Opened The Door To Illness. Miss Beryl Didn't Know Any Teachers Who Weren't Habitually Guilty And Depressed-guilty They Hadn't Accomplished More With Their Students, Depressed That Very Little More Was Possible.

I'll Tell You One Thing, Though. It's A Terrible Thing To Be A Disappointment To A Good Woman.

Worse, I Have To Admit To Feeling The Jealousy Of One Crab For Another That Has Managed To Climb Out Of The Barrel.